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Abel to Yzerman

Whoa…How About That?  The Wings Sucked Last Night And I Just Don’t Care

I know.  Less than twelve hours later and here I am.  Shocking, eh?  I guess I’m growing up.

Or…it could be that my stress level about this team has reached a shocking all-time low.  Does that mean I believe the Wings are looking so good that I don’t have to worry about what the next few weeks will bring?

Nope. It means that this morning driving into work I decided I just don’t give a flying *#$%@& anymore.  And that makes some sense, doesn’t it?  If the Wings care so little that they let the Islanders bend them over, at home, why should I care about the legacy these players have a chance to leave?

If the Wings are going to lie down the last few weeks leading up to the playoffs, why should I be concerned about whether they’ll experience what so few hockey teams have…a repeat?

If the motherfu**ing Red Wings are going to let a St. Louis Blue score four *#$%@& goals at the Joe in the midst of losing like they did last night? Give me one good goddamn reason I should let myself get beat down like a skinny guy in prison every time they prove again and again that their heart just isn’t in it?

So, driving in?  I was in that place.  I was grumpy, and I mean pissed.  Gripping the wheel. Gritting my teeth. Flipping off the slow drivers.  Passing on the right and just generally being a whiney little bitch.

And then?  Something happened.  Actually a couple things.  A few items made my day a bit brighter and reminded me that there are other things in life besides the Wings.  Ready?  Oh, we’re not talking life-changing stuff here.  So don’t get all Dr. Phil on me.

Simple stuff. Like this.  As I’m driving and I’m thinking about how Backes could be so open, so untouched, so many times.  I heard some frigging backpipe in the background.  I turned it up and there it was.  The pipes, then Angus, the pipes…Angus.  Battling it out right there on my radio.  “It’s A Long Way To The Top” just blaring.  Back and forth, Angus Young and whoever the frigging legend is playing the greatest instrument ever invented.  The Wings? Forgotten.  Temporarily.  What a frigging tune.

Then, I get to work and click to the Detroit News, feeling as if I’m emotionally ready to read about last night…especially since the comments I’d seen from the tail end of the live blog indicated our Uncle Mike has finally reached his boiling point.  There, on the right-hand side is this….“Conyers, Under Fire Again…‘I Don’t Regret Nothing.’”

Now. Let me stop for a second.  I don’t follow Detroit items and Michigan news in general nearly as much as I should.  You guys know what I read…the sports pages, and that’s about it.  But considering I grew up there, I think I owe the state enough to at least follow along with issues that affect all of you.  Well, I don’t. Sorry. It’s Wings, Tigers, Lions, etc.  So, when I read the name “Conyers” this morning, a light went off..but it was pretty dull.

I know who Monica Conyers is, but I’d never really cared enough to read too much. Well, today I did.

Man, what a frigging gold mine.  Holy…Christ.  I was laughing so frigging hard by the time I got to the end of this article that I had to breathe into a paper bag.  Absolute gold.  You’re a president of a city council and this is the level of your verbal abilities?  YES.  Thank you.

Detroit News

“I don’t regret nothing,” said Conyers when asked if she made mistakes in the past. “I ain’t done nothing worth apologizing for.”

 

Awesome. And there was more…

On the same day she fired a staffer for speaking to The Detroit News, Conyers told Cockrel to “shut the (expletive) up and asked if she “needs a man” before a closed door session today, according to sources. The incident prompted Councilman Kwame Kenyatta to announce that he’s seeking a censure of Conyers for her.

I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this.  I kept digging.  Read more. Watched some You Tube. Unreal.  Unfriggingreal.  These are the politicians who “run” our city?  I mean, I knew about the mayor…but man.  Amazing stuff. 

So, that got me thinking too.  It got me laughing, and it got me thinking.  There’s got to be more to life when the weather turns warm.  There has to be…more.  Does that mean I’m going to stop watching?  Hell no. I’ll be right there with you.  I’ll be aboard the Hasek and I’ll be stressing and fretting. But, man, c’mon.

I looked at the calendar.  Apparently, and this was a shock, my oldest daughter has a birthday in May?  Seriously?  Did. Not. Know. That.  And the other two in April?  C’mon. WTF kind of joke is that? Nobody told ME.  All these years and I thought those noises coming from the kitchen were my family watching playoff games on the little tv.  Crazy.  Parties?  How many have I missed?

This whole year, this entire regular season, has sucked.  It should have been a celebration of talent.  It should have been us sitting back, watching this amazing team just lay waste to everyone stupid enough to step in their path.  Oh, a few hiccups were to be expected.  But not many.  Instead, it’s been the opposite. The exceptions have been the great games. The exceptions have been the nights they decided as a group to give a shit.

So, now?  I’m the exception.  Now, I’m the one telling you that if they win I’ll be happy like a school girl as usual. But if they lose?  Well, if they lose then I’m not going to let it affect me like it has in years past.  Because right now? It’s what I expect.

And you should expect it to.  Because they’ve shown us nothing, no evidence to the contrary.

Now.  There can be hope.  I see it and I feel the warm breezes of optimism right off the shore.  If…and by god I mean IF…the Wings win the first round? 

Well, I truly believe that if they do then Twelve is not out of the question.  Because if they can escape that first matchup that means they’ve remembered how to win.  And once this team gets in that mode?  Nobody’s gonna stop them.

The question, as we all know too well, is whether there is enough heart, enough dedication, to get back into that mode.  I don’t see it. But hopefully I’m wrong.

In the mean time?  My boat is ready.  It’s going in the water this weekend.  Should the Wings get bounced by some hungry group of bitches from Nashville or St. Louis?  I’m out on the water a half hour later with AC/DC blaring and my daughters peppering me with questions about what kind of qualifications they need to join the Detroit City Council.

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About Abel to Yzerman

Welcome to Abel to Yzerman, a Red Wing blog since 1977.  No other site on the internet has better-researched, fact-laden and better prepared discussions than A2Y.  Re-phrase: we do little research, find facts and stats highly overrated and claim little to no preparation.  There are 19 readers of A2Y. No more, no less. All of them, except maybe one, are juvenile in nature.  Reminding them of that in the comment section will only encourage them to prove that. Your suggestions and critiques are welcome: wphoulihan@gmail.com